


it's not that easy

by the_prose_in_which_the_filth_dwells (the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells)



Series: it's not that easy [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alpha!Kane, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Authority!Seth, Brief Suffocation, Canon Typical Wrestling Violence, Corporate!Kane, Dubious Consent Courtesy of the Authority, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Management Made Them Do It, Omega!Seth, Panic Attacks, Parallelism Because Goddamn If I'm Not An English Major, Pining, Questionable Interpretations of Omega Biology courtesy of the Authority, Vaginal Sex, alpha!roman, post-Shield breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 09:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21224144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells/pseuds/the_prose_in_which_the_filth_dwells
Summary: After a disastrous match involving Seth's old mates, Dean and Roman, the Authority has a problem on their hands. Clearly, their omega champion has gone too long without mating with an alpha.Triple H has better things to do, so the duty falls to the Director of Operations himself: Kane.xA "management made them do it" fic featuring omega!Seth, alpha!Kane and copious amounts of emotional turmoil on both sides.





	it's not that easy

**Author's Note:**

> A fic lovingly inspired by kenjideath's [Give and Take](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4041604), fingalsanteater's [Not Quite a Disaster, but Still a Fine Mess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865855), and FunkyinFishnet's [ The Penny Don't Fit The Slot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585297). Without those fics, I never even would have considered Seth/Kane as a pairing. 
> 
> This started as self indulgent porn, but damn if it didn't turn out decent enough to post. Also, emotions got in the way so this exploded to 8700 words. Oops.

Seth knows he is off his rhythm. He has been ever since he started on his new suppressants a few days ago. The moment the side effects hit him the day of —terrible shivers, nausea, the works— Triple H was fussing over him and Stephanie was debating whether they should get him out of the non-title match he had scheduled with one of his old mates, Roman. 

Seth had quickly asserted that he was absolutely well enough to win the match, and in the couple of days leading up to RAW he had even shaken off most of the symptoms. 

x

In the Authority’s private locker room, maybe ten minutes before the main event, Seth lets Stephanie and Hunter check him over one last time. He would never point it out to their faces, but they are being such typical, protective alphas. Stephanie fusses with his wet hair while Hunter prods him with the same questions. 

_ Are you gonna puke? Faint? Do you feel alright? We can still call the match off. I’d rather do that than have you keel over in the ring or get pinned by Roman. _

Seth is suddenly reminded of that one quote spoken by Hermione Granger. (_“Another clever idea to get us killed__— __or worse, expelled.”) _He snorts suddenly, making both alphas stare at him in bewilderment. Seth fumbles for a moment, then recovers.

“I’m fine, I promise. You think I’d let Roman pin me?” Seth says, squaring his shoulders. He feels more than okay. His body is used to the new suppressants, his hormones are under control. All he has to do now is pedigree Roman a few times_—_ and anyways, it isn’t a title match. They were saving that for a pay per view. 

“Of course not,” Stephanie replies, tucking a strand of hair behind Seth’s ear. “You’re our champion.”

Seth’s chest puffs with pride. Hunter squeezes his shoulder. 

“Get going,” he tells him. Then he leans in, brushing his cheek against Seth’s. Stephanie does the same after him, her cheek smooth compared to Hunter’s stubble. It’s a casual scent marking, one that’s subtle enough not to start any rumors. (Contrary to popular belief, Seth has never actually had sex with either of them. He is champion because of his skill, not his designation.) Seth preens under their attention. He doesn’t subscribe to the omega bullshit about wanting to be completely owned by an alpha —never has— but there’s nothing better than tangible proof of their approval. Hunter pats his back as Seth grabs his title, and then he’s off, heading for gorilla.

x

Seth strides down the ramp confidently, like he always does. Being one of the few omega champions in the WWE’s history demands nothing less, no matter when or where. There are always eyes on him.

He tunes out the audience’s boos, instead tapping the title in time with the rhythm of his theme as he walks to the ring. Roman is already there, staring at him with undisguised loathing. Seth’s used to it by now. Dean had a match earlier tonight, so at least the fight will be even. There’s no J&J out with him tonight, no Kane, no one. Not like he needs them.

The bell rings, and despite the rough few days he’s had Seth _ is _ fine during the match, trading blow for blow with Roman and utilizing his speed and agility to stay out of the way of his massive hands. This isn’t the first time he has fought either of his old mates (and it won’t be the last considering all of the bad blood between them) and Seth hasn’t forgotten their blind spots. Once upon a time he covered those weak points, watched their backs— but now it is just as easy to take advantage of them. He drops Roman with a savage enzuigiri to the back of the head. 

As much as Seth might pretend to be a stranger to them, he still knows Dean and Roman like the back of his hand. Like the twin bites overlapping on his bonding gland. 

When Seth rolls back to his feet a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over him. His face drains of color and he grasps the ropes to stop himself from toppling back down. His legs quake. Thankfully it just looks like he’s still staggered from their earlier exchange, even if he feels like there’s suddenly a pit in his stomach.

Roman can tell that he’s off his game, though, even when he’s crumpled in a heap and not quite seeing straight. Seth knows it, too, and finds no remorse in Roman’s face. His expression is that of a predator sensing weakness, nothing more. 

Seth doesn’t have time to dodge when Roman lunges, dragging him down with him into a chokehold. Roman’s thick arm wraps around his windpipe and Seth flails artlessly. Somewhere in his mind there is training for this situation, but it feels far away. 

_ Mate, _ his traitorous subconscious whispers. The ref is in his face, yelling at him. Seth shakes his head. 

_ Can’t quit. Not now. Have to win. _

The audience is roaring. Seth reaches for the ropes— his life preserver, his only shot at oxygen. He might just be close enough. Then Roman rolls them back to the center of the ring, shifting Seth into a painful hold. He feels like he’s being split in two.

_ You can’t lose this. What would Hunter and Stephanie think? _

Seth manages to steal a gasp of air and clarity rushes back. He can reverse this. He shifts his weight, coiling his muscles, preparing to spring free of Roman’s vise grip.

Then he locks eyes with Dean Ambrose.

His other alpha is standing outside of the ring, arms crossed, blue eyes sharp and cold. When Seth meets his stare his lip curls to reveal his fangs. 

Distantly, in the back of his mind, logic informs Seth that he must have run down when his back was to the ramp. Maybe that was why everyone had been screaming.

Roman shifts his grip and Seth can breathe again, but he still feels weak and lightheaded. Dean’s strangely unfeeling glare hits him hard, and for once he doesn’t have any facades to hide behind. 

_ Mate, _ his subconscious cries. The twin scars on his bonding gland are crawling. Roman still has him tied up and he can barely move. He’s trapped, God, he’s _ trapped. _ He can’t get enough air. What’s happening to him?

The terrible pit in Seth’s stomach opens up, gives way, and a desolate, pure omega wail tears itself from his lungs. 

Roman’s grip falters. Dean hears it just as clearly and freezes. There are cameras on them but Seth doesn’t notice. He feels like he’s falling, like he’s suffocating, his mates are right here but they’ve never been farther away he can’t breathe _ help help help_—

Roman hooks his leg up into a pin. Seth doesn’t even hear the ref’s count, never thinks to kick out. The bell rings, and Roman’s theme thunders through the arena. Dean slowly uncrosses his arms.

Roman lets him go, drops him like his hands are burned. He stares at him, expression unreadable as Seth wheezes and shakes. His chest is heaving. He thinks he might be dying.

As the announcer proclaims Roman the winner of the match, Seth tilts his head back to show Roman his throat. It’s the only thing that makes sense. 

But rather than scooping him up and holding him like he should, _ please, alpha_— Roman turns and walks away. He slides out of the ring, Dean coming to his side. There is no boasting, no triumph. They stare at Seth’s prone form a moment longer before walking back up the ramp. 

They don’t look back.

Seth gulps and shudders and stares at the ceiling of the arena. He feels vulnerable, naked, and his alphas just _ abandoned him_. He wants to scream. He wants to cry.

A camera looms into his line of vision. Seth’s eyes focus on the black lens, take a moment to process—

Oh no.

Oh _ no. _

Hunter is going to kill him. 

x

Seth’s flight backstage and to the Authority’s locker room is probably one of the worst things he’s ever had to do. The crowd jeers at him, hurls insults and all kinds of degrading, omega related epithets. He doesn’t even realize he forgot his title until he’s barreled into the locker room, a hair’s breadth away from crying his eyes out. 

The room is empty. A small mercy. Seth lets out a choked noise that’s halfway a sob. Something is incredibly, incredibly wrong with him. He stumbles to the shower. Tiny hiccuping cries keep escaping him. He doesn’t even strip off his ring gear as he turns the water on and leans his head under the spray. 

The water is icy, enough to jolt Seth to some modicum of awareness. He slams the handle clockwise to turn the water hot. It gradually turns lukewarm, and Seth slumps miserably under it and starts to cry into his hands. 

The rejection aches. His alphas _ left _ him. Abandoned him in the ring even after he had cried out for them. They don’t want him. He isn’t good enough. Dean’s cold, apathetic stare is emblazoned on the back of his eyelids. He hurts where Roman had touched him, skin burning far deeper than bruises could reach. Seth sobs, tears mingling with the water. _ No one _ wants him.

x

It takes Seth a while to surface from his despair. The water still hasn’t gotten past mild warmth despite the fact that it’s turned to the maximum. Seth turns his face up to the spray to wash the snot and tears. 

Once it’s cleaned off, Seth’s common sense has a leg to stand on. It finally usurps control from his rampant omega instincts. Seth hiccups. 

His sinuses are all stopped up, but other than that he can breathe —and _ think_— again. Hunter is going to be absolutely furious at him, if he isn’t already. 

Seth huddles under the warm water, the match replaying in his mind. What the fuck had happened out there?

He had gotten the dizzy spell first. A side effect of the suppressants. He should have seen that coming. 

Then the choke hold, cutting off his oxygen. 

Then Dean. Snarling with a hate that didn’t reach his eyes. Distant. Cold.

Then he freaked out.

_ Panic attack_, his mind supplies. It has been years and years since Seth has had one of those, but now that he thinks about it that was _ exactly _ what had happened. His raging, medication crazed hormones must have triggered it. Seth suddenly feels like a massive idiot. 

“God damn it,” he mumbles to the empty locker room.

x 

All Seth can do in the wake of _ that _ is weather the storm. The stupid cameras had picked up every millisecond of that embarrassing omega cry he had made and broadcasted it nationwide. His freak out was plain as day, no matter whether it was on an HD television or 240p on an Iphone screen. 

And hell, that isn’t even including the mortifying pin Roman had gotten on him. There is no mistaking the submissive display he had made to his old alpha, so now all of social media seems to be using him as an example of why omegas shouldn’t be allowed to compete on the main roster. After years and years of fighting against this very attitude, it’s a crushing blow. 

The Authority is —as both a collective unit and as Hunter and Stephanie— furious with him. In the span of time between RAW ending and Seth packing his bag early the next day to check out of the hotel, he has already been on the receiving end of two lectures each from both alphas. And it’s far from over. The Authority took a risk pushing an omega champion. He has the Authority’s backing. And now he’s made himself look like a fool. It’s going to reflect badly on them just as much as it does on himself. And, for all he knows, this is enough of a reason for them to dump him on the curb. 

There is a house show scheduled in the next town over, so Seth is quick to snag a rental car to drive alone. Perks of being with the Authority— even if Randy Orton stops him on his way out to ask if he needs an alpha to drive.

Asshole.

Seth peels out of the hotel parking lot in record time, rock music turned up loud to drown out his thoughts.

x

It isn’t a long drive, so Seth finds himself in the next town before noon. Hunter hasn’t even texted him anything about his hotel room. Seth doesn’t dare ask. His luggage will be alright in the rental’s trunk. The Authority is pissed off enough already. 

Seth’s not stupid; he knows he won’t be in tonight’s house show. Hell, he might not even be on Smackdown. He also knows Hunter and Stephanie are going to give him cold turkey until they feel he has been punished enough, or until someone can come up with a way to spin the events of RAW into something he can work. One of those options is far less likely than the other.

Seth is early, so he decides to kill some time by working out in whatever gym he can find. That is normally enough to cheer him up on his bad days, so when he still feels terrible after more than an hour of Crossfit Seth gives up, showers, and goes to get lunch. The big guns are going to be necessary.

He gets a salad, wolfs it down, then seeks out the nearest ice cream shop. It’s not a cheat day, but Seth doesn’t really care. It’s a lot easier not to think about his current humiliation with two scoops of the most decadent flavor they have to offer.

Seth doesn’t have anywhere to go, so he settles in the far corner of the ice cream parlor and plays games on his phone as he eats. Thankfully no one bothers him.

He’s halfway through his scoops when he gets a text from Hunter. It doesn’t bode well.

_ I want to see you in my office at the arena at 1:00. _

Seth still doesn’t know which hotel they’re staying at. He groans to himself, but replies politely. 

_ Yes sir. _

At this rate, Seth is going to need more ice cream.

x

The facility is quiet as Seth follows the directions he was given to get to Hunter’s temporary office. Anyone he encounters either looks the other way or is a complete stranger. 

Seth has himself mostly convinced that he’s about to be fired. His palms are sweaty as he walks up to the closed door that has a “Triple H” sign taped to it. He can hear muffled conversation from within. Deep voices. Triple H, obviously, and someone else.

Seth checks his phone. It’s one o’clock exactly. Should he wait? 

No, best to obey. Seth knocks lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Hunter calls. He doesn’t sound angry. Seth slips inside.

Hunter is sitting at a desk, laptop open and already looking tired. Standing opposite to him is Kane. 

Odd. He has no files with him, doesn’t even have his phone out. What have they been discussing?

“Have a seat,” Hunter says. Seth obeys, settling into one of the two chairs Kane has neglected to use. He braces himself for the worst.

“You too,” Hunter tells Kane, and the same taken aback expression forms on both his and Seth’s faces. Then Kane sits in the vacant chair. It creaks under his weight. Kane is undoubtedly the largest alpha Seth has ever encountered, aside from maybe the Big Show. His scent is markedly different from Hunter’s. Definitely that of an alpha, just not as sharp. 

“Sir-” Seth begins. Hunter holds up a hand and he closes his mouth.

“I’m done lecturing you about last night. I’m here to talk about fixing your mess.”

“I’m not fired?” Seth blurts. Hunter huffs.

“No.”

Seth’s shoulders slump with relief. Thank god. Thank _ god. _

Then Hunter continues. “As much as you might have been mentally prepared to face Roman, you were far from it physically.” 

Seth expects Hunter to talk about his new suppressants, but he takes it in a completely different direction.

“Your body has gone way too long without an alpha.” 

Seth sputters, hackles rising. “If you’re suggesting that-”

“Seth,” Hunter interrupts, fixing him with a stare that shuts him up. Seth instinctively lowers his gaze despite his seething indignance. His pride is stinging. 

“After having two alpha mates, your body clearly can’t cope with having nothing.” 

Seth flushes with outrage and embarrassment, head jerking up again. “I’m fine!” Why is he laying all of this out with Kane present?

“What does this have to do with me?” Kane cuts in, right on cue. He crosses his arms, looking as if he is disgusted to even think about Seth’s omega biology. Hunter turns his eyes to him.

“I need an alpha aligned with the Authority to take care of our champion’s problem.”

_ “What?” _Seth nearly shrieks. Kane’s face twists. 

Hunter doesn’t stop. “Orton is too much of a wild card, so you need to do it.”

“No,” Kane says, voice flat. Hunter doesn’t blink.

“It’s not a request.” 

Kane falls silent. Seth feels his face heat up. He isn’t some tool that needs fixing, and he _ certainly _ isn’t one that can just be _ passed around. _Seth bristles.

“I don’t need anything from _ any _ alpha!” 

Hunter’s eyes narrow. “Your performance last night says otherwise.” 

“Hunter-”

“Unless you want to lose your title?” Seth falters.

“Well?”

“No, alpha.”

Hunter looks to Kane expectantly. He sighs, looking pained.

“I’ll do it,” he grumbles. Seth crosses his arms defensively.

“Does it have to be him?” Seth protests. It sounds like a pathetic, nasally whine even to his own ears. 

Hunter pinches the bridge of his nose. “Quiet. I booked a hotel room for you to use. I expect you both to spend the night there. Put room service on the Authority’s tab.” A beat. “Kane, knot him at least twice. Loosen him up.”

Seth blanches. 

“Yes sir,” Kane rumbles, not looking enthused either. Seth’s wide eyes flicker between him and Hunter. 

“Can’t you do it?” Seth nearly begs. Hunter is always eager to scent mark him and let him sleep in their bed; wouldn’t this be no different?

“I have more important things to do,” Hunter replies, as if they’re talking about meeting for coffee. It’s like a punch to the gut. 

Things more important than— than taking care of him? The Authority’s champion? Seth’s chest nearly caves in. He thought he was special. Were the nights they spent curled together meaningless to him and Stephanie? 

Seth whispers, “I thought-”

Hunter abruptly flashes his fangs at him. Seth flinches like a kicked puppy. 

“I will know if either of you do not comply with this,” Hunter growls, as if he hadn’t just torn out a piece of Seth’s heart. Did he even know?

“Now get out.”

Seth jerks to his feet and flees the room. _ More important things to do. _

He hurries down the corridor. _ More important things to do. _

Seth isn’t important to him. He is just the latest champion in a long line. How had he deluded himself into thinking anything else? He’s so fucking _ stupid. _

“Rollins.” 

Seth halts, one hand on the nearest door leading out to the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder. Kane is standing there, expression unreadable.

“What?” Seth snarls, trying to regain some dignity or at least mask his hurt with aggression. 

At Seth’s open hostility Kane’s eyes narrow. It’s the annoyed expression Seth is used to seeing on his face. 

“Palestra Hotel, room 509, six o’clock,” he growls, then stomps off in the opposite direction. Seth hisses after him. 

Fuck Kane. Fuck Hunter. Fuck alphas_. _

Fuck his _ life_.

x

The more Seth thinks about the situation, the angrier he gets. Hunter is no doctor! He has no right to assume shit like this! Seth, _ debilitated _ by his lack of alphas? As if! If anything, his current title proves that he is doing far better _ without _his mates. 

Oh, and _ loosen him up? _ Seth growls just thinking about it. Alphas, always thinking everything is about them. Clearly his problem wasn’t caused by something as mundane as a new medication. No, he needs a _ knot. _ Idiots.

And he is supposed to fuck Kane, of all people? A relic of the past, merely a corporate shell of the feared demon he once was? Seth hates Randy Orton, but he would-

No, he wouldn’t, Seth realizes. Orton is a genuine bastard and a knothead, constantly trying to hold his designation over Seth. At least Kane wasn’t abusing societal rules to lord over him and make him scent him all the time. Even better, Seth can _ beat _ Kane. (Not that he can’t beat Orton.) He has proven himself to be superior despite his omega status, as indicated by the title he owns. 

As much as Seth wants to refuse that it’s going to happen, he knows it will. The Authority has far too much leverage over both of them. It’s a better idea to devise a strategy for how he’s going to handle it. 

Seth’s phone beeps. He looks down at it. It’s a short, curt message from Hunter.

_ Be good. _

Seth scowls. 

“Like hell.” 

But to save himself some trouble, he texts back “yes sir” and then puts his phone away. He doesn’t care what Hunter says— if Kane expects him to just roll over and present, he is sorely mistaken. He plans on staying in control. Riding him, enjoying the knot, and then it will all be over and done with. Piece of cake.

Hopefully.

x 

Seth shows up to the door to room 509 at 6:05. He had considered making Kane wait longer, but knowing him he would just text Hunter and he would chew him out. It’s best to just get the whole thing done as soon as possible. 

He inhales, then knocks on the door. He’s wearing sweatpants and a t shirt —no reason to get dressed up, after all— and his spare hand is on his luggage. This is the only room Hunter has booked him, but maybe after the night’s activities he can find someone else to bunk with. 

Does anyone like him enough to let him stay?

Seth’s train of thought is interrupted by Kane opening the door. He’s still in the suit from earlier, looking unenthused but resigned. Seth sidesteps around him and enters the room. 

Hunter has spared no expense. The suite isn’t quite as luxurious as the penthouses he indulges in for himself and Stephanie, but it’s still roomy and comfortable. Seth doesn’t pause, heading for the bedroom so he can dump his luggage there. Kane doesn’t follow. 

The bed Seth is confronted with is large enough to accommodate Kane, and that is saying something. Did Hunter book them the fucking honeymoon suite? 

At least there isn’t anything kitschy like rose petals. Seth grumbles under his breath and deposits his stuff on the side of the bed that isn’t already occupied by Kane’s bags. God, he hates alphas. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Kane asks as Seth walks back into the main room. He flings him a menu like a frisbee, and Seth grabs it out of the air. Then he sits on the couch and flips it open. Kane is somewhere behind him, doubtlessly staring down at him like he’s a mosquito. 

“Tell me what you want and I can order,” Seth says, turning the page. The seafood looks good, or perhaps a burger. 

“I can do it.”

“I know you’re capable,” Seth remarks. His voice is dry. “Been a while since you needed that voice box.” He doesn’t glance over his shoulder, but smirks a little when he hears Kane sigh heavily with exasperation. 

“Let me do it.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Kane gripes.

Seth scowls, flipping past the salads. “That’s a terrible answer.” 

Kane steps into his peripheral vision, towards the side table where his phone is. He grabs it and unlocks it. 

_ Oh no you don’t. _

Seth’s hand darts out and snatches it. _ He’s _going to order, god damn it.

“Seth,” Kane warns, eyes narrowing.

“Kane,” Seth fires back in a mockery of his tone. It’s petulant enough that Kane glares, which is the intended effect.

“Give me the damn phone.”

“No.” Seth flips the menu over to find the number as he pokes the phone app. He hears Kane step closer and grips the phone tighter in anticipation. If he can hold on to a title, he can hold on to a phone. 

But rather than try to wrestle the phone from him, Kane clamps a hand around the back of Seth’s neck. Seth freezes instinctively, like a lion cub picked up by the scruff. His thoughts give way to white noise. Kane’s hand is hot on his skin.

Matter of factly, the alpha plucks his phone out of Seth’s loosened grip, followed by the menu. Then he releases Seth’s neck and steps away, typing in the phone number. Seth’s skin is prickling.

“I don’t like you,” Seth announces weakly once he gathers his wits. 

“I don’t like you either. Do you want dinner or not?”

Seth sighs. “The grilled salmon and rice.” Kane grunts and brings the phone to his ear.

Seth: 0, Kane: 1. Maybe it _ has _ been too long since Seth has handled alphas in close quarters. 

Then again, the night is still young.

x 

They find themselves on opposite sides of the suite’s dinner table, eating in silence. The only saving grace of the whole situation is that the food is delicious. Kane had ordered a steak, and it looks to die for. If Seth was with his mates, he could ask for a bite, but—

Seth stops that thought cold. Not his mates. The Shield. His enemies. Who fucking cares about how Kane’s steak might taste?

Seth takes a particularly vindictive bite of salmon. Fuck the Shield. 

Fuck Hunter, fuck Kane. Fuck alphas.

“What kind of suppressants are you on?” Kane asks out of the blue.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Seth snaps. Kane gives him a withering glare.

“Birth control, Rollins. Do your suppressants cover that?”

_ Oh. _ Seth nods mutely. 

“And we’re both clean,” Kane continues. “Do you still want me to wear a condom?”

That is...oddly considerate of him. Seth regards him for a moment before shaking his head. Might as well get the full experience.

Satisfied, Kane resumes eating. 

So they are really doing this. Seth’s really going to fuck him. Or, well, Kane is going to fuck him. He’s not nervous, exactly. A bit jumpy, sure, but that’s understandable. It only gets worse as they finish up their meal. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Seth announces, practically shooting to his feet. “We can get to it after.”

Kane nods, like they are discussing a business meeting. And technically, they are. Seth makes a break for it, not even caring that he’s left Kane with cleanup. 

Once he escapes to the bedroom, he grabs one of his bags and locks himself in the ensuite. It’s just as luxurious as the rest of the suite, with a spacious bathtub and fancy shit like two whole showerheads. Altogether, the bathroom itself is probably as big as some of the motel rooms he slept in with his mates—

Fuck it, not _ again_. The Shield. Bitter rivals. Why does he keep thinking about them? 

Seth curses under his breath and slams his bag on the granite countertop. He fishes out his phone, and hits play on one of the metal albums he downloaded recently. The guitars are loud enough to muffle just about everything, aside from maybe the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts in his head. At least Kane can’t hear those. Seth feels a lot safer with the music covering his noise. 

After using the toilet, Seth comes to stand back in front of the mirror. His appearance hardly matters here and now, but he still pats down his flyaways. The Seth in the mirror looks anxious. No way for a champion to be. 

Seth inhales, exhales. He’s been through worse. Wrestled with food poisoning. Participated in cheesy omega v. omega matches that were more stripteases than sport. Jobbed to idiots. Gotten accidentally left overnight in a town that boasted the “world’s largest ball of twine.” (Or was it the “world’s largest ball of rubber bands?” He tries to block that whole experience out of his memory.)

Backstabbed his mates. Beaten them down with a steel chair. Turned his back on them and stepped into the open arms of Triple H. Pretended like none of it hurt. 

Seth grinds his teeth and turns away from the mirror. _ Focus. _ Tonight is about saving face and reaffirming his loyalty to the Authority. If he has to fuck Kane to do it, so be it. 

As Seth unloads bottles and products from his bag, he gathers up his wits. Should he go ahead and strip naked? Expedite the process? Maybe not. But that means he is left with nothing to do but face the music— or lack thereof. 

Seth picks up his phone and turns the music off. Here goes nothing.

Kane is already on the bed when Seth emerges from the bathroom. He is dressed down to his boxers (red, shocker) and is reading on his phone. If Seth had taken his sweet time, he doesn’t comment. He doesn’t even look up when the door opens. Unbidden, Seth’s eyes trail over his body. Purely to size him up, of course.

But he must have stared for too long, because Kane speaks up. “Are you going to stand there and gawk all night?”

“You’re not that impressive,” Seth fires back immediately.

“I’m flattered,” Kane mutters under his breath. He still hasn’t looked up— which means the ball is still in Seth’s court. 

He starts by pulling off his tshirt. Seth reasons it is either a display of incredible self control or incredible disinterest when Kane doesn’t watch. He knows he is good looking, after all. Slaves away over his physique.

His sweatpants meet the same treatment, and Seth’s hypothesis settles on an extreme lack of enthusiasm. He is well aware that countless people, alpha, beta, and even omega, have whacked it to his thighs. Dreamed of stroking his toned calves. So the fact that Kane flips to the next page of his ebook rather than getting an eyeful, well. Seth must really, _ really _ disgust him. Thus he opts to try an admittedly juvenile jab to get some sort of reaction. 

“So, are you one of those alphas with... _ eccentric _tastes?” Regardless of Seth’s presence in the mix, there were inevitably stupid comments regarding Dean and Roman as a same-designation couple, like “which one of you is the omega?” It always got them riled up, so implying Kane likes knots should be no different. 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I?” Kane gripes. Seth scowls.

He crosses the room, climbing onto the bed. As the mattress dips, Kane finally sets his phone on the nightstand. His eyes, hard and sharp, turn to him, and Seth suddenly regrets ever wanting his attention. He hadn’t been expecting the feeling of vulnerability that is crawling under his skin. Omega instincts make him duck his head, just for a second. Then Seth squares his shoulders and raises his chin to meet Kane’s stare.

“I’m topping,” Seth declares.

Kane has the gall to laugh. “Not likely.”

“Oh yeah?” Seth growls. He pounces onto Kane, straddling his thighs. His skin is warm, emanating heat like a furnace. Kane’s eyes darken.

Darken with irritation, Seth notices a moment too late. Kane bares his fangs and grabs him by the throat. Just like before, it makes Seth freeze instantly. He swallows hard, not liking the way Kane’s hand wraps so far around his neck— or the fact that his body isn’t entirely opposed. Has Kane’s scent always been so strong and alluring? Shit.

Kane effortlessly topples Seth to the side and he goes down artlessly. Muscle memory from years of wrestling has him immediately rearing back up and swinging a fist at Kane’s face. He catches it and replies by slamming him face down back into the mattress. 

“Down, omega.”

Seth’s limbs flail out in a clumsy attempt at an offense. Kane’s alpha scent is cloying up his mind, and none of his movements are as quick as he wants them to be. Kane doesn’t move, and it’s like he’s a wave uselessly beating against a rock. 

“Fuck you,” Seth spits. Kane shifts on top of him, pinning him with his bulk. Seth squirms uselessly, hissing. 

“According to Hunter, this is good for you,” Kane tells him, annoyance seeping into his tone. It’s somewhat of a relief for Seth to realize Kane is just as bothered by Triple H as he is Seth. Still, not enough to disobey a direct order from the Authority.

“Fuck Hunter. Fuck you!”

Kane leans down, sniffing his hair. Seth responds by throwing his head back, smashing his nose into his skull. Kane curses loud enough to make Seth wince.

“Settle _ down_!” Kane snarls in a tone that promises violence as he forces Seth’s face into the mattress. Seth breathes heavily, expecting a vengeful blow as he continues to thrash. Instead, Kane sinks his fangs into his bonding gland, hard. Seth jerks at the initial pain, and then biology kicks in. 

Thick, gooey warmth coats his mind like syrup. Biting an omega’s bonding gland forces them to relax, thanks to an old mating reflex, and unfortunately Seth is no exception. Logically he knows the pleasure is artificial, but he is helpless against it. 

Seth falls pliant underneath Kane. The long whine he lets out is muffled into the mattress. His nose suddenly feels full of nothing but Kane’s alpha musk. Why had he been fighting again? Kane is strong and capable, an ideal alpha.

Kane lets him go once his breathing calms. Seth can’t manage much higher brain function, just shivers a little when the cold air touches the saliva on his skin. The endorphins are fading but still present.

Kane takes advantage of this to divest himself of his boxers. He knows this is probably the only time he’ll have his hands free. He can pick up more than a hint of slick on the air. 

“Not cool,” Seth manages, then turns his face into the pillow. His thighs tighten slightly. His arousal has suddenly made itself known, to both Kane and himself, and it’s caught Seth off guard. Damn hormones.

Kane smooths a _ massive _hand over his flank. Seth jerks a bit and reflexively clenches around nothing. Somewhere behind him, he can hear Kane breathe in deeply. 

“Good omega,” he growls, and the praise is like heroin. Especially coming from Kane, considering their mutual hatred. Seth whimpers. His boxers are starting to get damp. 

Before he realizes it, he’s up on his hands and knees, a graceful curve to his arched back. It’s suddenly easy to present to the huge, overwhelming alpha that Kane is. Pure want is already pulsing in his veins.

All Kane can do is admire the view. It’s remarkable —and also very telling— how hard and fast Seth has fallen into an omega’s instinctual headspace. Apparently it really _ has _ been a long time since Seth has properly embraced this side of himself. 

Kane hooks a finger into the waistband of Seth’s boxers, dragging them down. The inviting scent hits him like a clothesline, and the sight paralyzes him like a chokehold. Seth’s small omega cock is erect, leaking clear fluid. Just behind it, his cunt is slick and swollen. His body is welcoming an alpha already. 

Kane grasps his own cock and squeezes. His head is spinning, almost like he has inhaled heatscent. But no, it’s just Seth’s desperation. It takes all of Kane’s willpower not to just slam into that tiny little hole. 

Fingers first. He doesn’t want to break the kid. Kane licks his index finger to coat it with saliva, then trails a wet line down Seth’s cock. He jolts like he’s been hit, cock bobbing in the air, and then _ moans_.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” Seth breathes, twitching. Kane slides his fingertip over the lips of his cunt, feeling the slick there. Seth cants his hips back, trying to urge his finger inside. 

“Please,” Seth groans again. His voice is already wrecked. Kane has half a mind to tease him a bit and get revenge for all of the times the whelp has inconvenienced him, but then Seth whines the magic word.

“_Alpha._”

He can hardly deny him after that. Kane gives a pleased noise and slides his thick finger into Seth’s cunt, all the way to the knuckle. He’s so soft and wet inside. The sound Seth makes suggests he is getting speared by something far larger than even Kane’s cock. He squirms, rocking back into Kane’s hand.

Kane’s cock is throbbing. Seth is tight as a vise around just his finger, but oh so desperate. He keeps making these choked little noises. 

_ Poor thing. _

The thought is not as sarcastic or scathing as Kane would have liked. He distracts himself by slowly moving his finger in and out of Seth. The slide is easy thanks to the slick practically gushing out of him. Seth’s fingers tangle and untangle in the sheets as he grasps at nothing. 

Seth almost wants to guess his heat has come early. He hasn’t been this aroused in a long time, to the point where his limbs are shaking slightly. His breathing is hard, and he can already feel beads of sweat on his skin. Kane’s scent surrounds both of them, claiming and overtaking. Seth’s body wants to be smothered in it. 

Unlike a heat, though, Seth is self aware enough to know that his instincts are to blame for his current desires. Chemicals in his brain are making him want everything Kane is giving him.

_ Even when he really wants his mates. _

The thought chills his blood. Kane is not the one who should be doing this. He wants his alphas. 

A miserable, longing whine rips itself out of his chest involuntarily. God, this is _ wrong_. He comes back to an empty hotel room night after night, and sleeps alone in a cold bed. He lashes out on the mic and in the ring so he doesn’t have to think about the two distinct holes in his heart. He’s here in bed with another alpha so that he might trick his body into forgetting them.

All of it is wrong. What has he _ done? _Distress starts to bleed into Seth’s scent. 

Kane doesn’t move his hand away. Instead he leans over him until Seth’s back is flush with his front. He is a muscular heat draped over Seth’s slimmer frame, providing some stability as he trembles. 

“What is it?” Kane rumbles, his nose grazing Seth’s hair. Seth presses back into him, folding in on himself in a way. Kane notices his eyes are screwed shut. Seth lets out another whine.

Kane dips his head and gently laves his tongue over Seth’s shoulder. Seth still doesn’t answer, regardless of his coaxing. Then he surprises him by clenching around his finger. 

“More,” he chokes, sounding like he’s being held at gunpoint rather than in someone’s arms. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Kane isn’t stupid— he knows deflection when he sees it. Seth is trying to provoke him, either through arousal or rage, so he’ll leave the issue alone. What Seth doesn’t realize, however, is that Kane isn’t a monster; he can hardly enjoy himself with the scent of an omega’s despair in his nose. He exhales slowly.

Kane isn’t Seth’s alpha, but he’s all Seth has at the moment. Someone has to mop up his emotional mess before he self destructs even more than he already has. It might as well be Kane, experienced as he is with bearing the brunt of other people’s mistakes.

Kane slides a second finger into Seth’s cunt, and he inhales sharply. He hasn’t stopped shaking.

“Tell me,” Kane presses.

“Fuck you,” Seth whimpers in a blend of lust and anger, one so familiar Kane almost forgets who he’s with. If he closes his eyes, just for a second, it could almost be someone else beneath him. An omega with a wilder beard and vibrant, expressive blue eyes.

Almost.

Seth isn’t Kane’s omega, but he’s all Kane has at the moment. He is something Kane can fix, can protect instead of harm. Someone he can _ keep_, if only for a moment. It might as well be Seth, a kid whose indignation and annoying sneer was just reminiscent enough to stir Kane’s oft buried heart.

“Tell me,” Kane repeats, softly. Seth hiccups out a sob even as he rocks back into his fingers. Kane curls them into his g spot, and he shudders. It would almost be like their upper and lower halves are having two different conversations, if not for how Kane is holding him so carefully. Like glass that could shatter. 

“I want Dean,” Seth moans, chest tight. “I want Roman. I want my _ mates. _” A few tears drip from his lashes, unbidden.

_ And I want mine, _ Kane doesn’t say. His lips brush the nape of Seth’s neck. 

Rather than speaking, Kane sinks his teeth back into Seth’s bonding gland. It isn’t the sharp bite of reprimand Seth expects from his traitorous words. Instead it is deep, unmoving, keeping Seth in place and keeping him together. Kane doesn’t let go as his thumb rubs Seth’s little cock, or as Seth trembles with an orgasm. Seth remains anchored with him. 

Kane steadily fingers him through his shudders of pleasure, easing him back down and leaving his sensitive spots alone for the moment. Seth is making soft omega noises, tiny things he doesn’t even register making. When he stops shaking, Kane releases his shoulder and slides his fingers out of him. Seth slumps down onto the mattress.

Kane’s fingers are glistening with slick. The scent alone is a siren song, and he breathes in deeply. His cock is hard, almost to the point of aching with want.

Seth barely stirs aside from turning his head in Kane’s direction. Kane gently guides his head back down, and it’s a testament to how deep in his instincts Seth is when he obeys. All he does is close his eyes and sigh, tension leaving his limbs.

Kane trails his fingers down Seth’s muscled back, following the vertebrae of his spine. Then he squeezes his ass, albeit far gentler than he could have. Kane’s alpha instincts had come up in response to Seth’s a long time ago.

Kane moves astride him, not even bothering to pull him up on his hands and knees in a proper presentation. Seth raises his ass a bit, inviting him in. Kane can’t refuse, even if he wanted to. He grasps himself and lines up with Seth’s slick cunt. When the head of his cock brushes his folds, his hips twitch forward involuntarily. Just as it has been a long time since Seth has had sex, it has been for Kane too. Not since—

No, he can’t do this to himself now. Even his name hurts right now, while his protective instincts are all drudged up. 

Seth whines, and Kane focuses on the kid beneath him. The far less painful option.

“Shh,” he whispers, and eases his cock inside of him. Seth’s mouth opens into a silent moan, his fingers curling into the bed. Kane rumbles with pleasure. He’s so tight and wet around him. His muscles keep fluttering and clenching around him, so grateful to be full again after so long. What a perfect omega.

Kane remains still for a moment once he has sunk in to the hilt. Even with his preparation, he knows Seth will probably still be having trouble accommodating his size. He traces the kanji inked on Seth’s spine with a finger. 

Seth honest to God purrs at his touch, and relaxes again. Kane exhales tightly. He wants nothing more than to dig his fingers into Seth’s hips and fuck him hard, but instead he gradually starts to rock into him. It’s difficult to keep his thrusts slow, but he manages. 

Seth is a wrestler, though, and more than a bit of a masochist considering his high risk fighting style. True to form, he soon starts to squirm impatiently beneath Kane. Fussy, as always. Kane should have known the sweet, pliant omega he had before was an exception, not the rule.

“Alpha,” Seth whines. It’s a far cry from the delicate pleading from earlier. The snotty brat that talks shit and then goes crying to Hunter when he gets punched in the face is coming back. Kane tightens his grip and resolves to fuck it out of him before he starts bitching in earnest.

When Kane pulls back, he can actually hear Seth inhale to unleash a complaint. Then Kane snaps his hips forward and Seth jolts, using the air in his lungs to squeak instead. As he keeps driving into him, Seth is quickly pressing back to get him in deeper. His fingers grip the sheets to hold on for dear life. All Kane can hope is that Seth can take it, because with the way his cunt is squeezing him like a vise he doesn’t think he can stop now. He curls an arm around Seth and pulls him up and back into him. Seth braces himself on his elbows.

“Fuck!” Seth yelps when the changed angle makes Kane hit his g spot. Kane growls in approval. He’s already ready to knot him, with the way he whimpers and writhes on his cock. Kane squeezes his thigh.

Seth is rapidly becoming delirious with pleasure. Kane is reaching so far inside of him. He feels so full and he hasn’t even been knotted yet.

Fuck, Kane’s _ knot. _ Seth moans. He wants it so bad. He wants to be stretched and filled past his limit. He wants Kane to come deep inside of him. 

Seth’s little cock is hard to the point of throbbing. While earlier he had been able to grind into the mattress, now with Kane holding him up he can’t get any friction. Seth whines with a mixture of frustration and desire.

“What now?” Kane groans, in a similar blend of sentiments. Still, it’s not nearly as harsh as he could have been.

“I need- fuck, alpha!” Seth cries out, clenching around him.

Kane, being far more perceptive than people give him credit for (and also not an idiot) understands what Seth means. Still, he wants to give him a bit of a hard time. 

Kane licks Seth’s neck. “What do you want?”

“Kane!” Seth whinges, petulant. When Kane nails him with a particularly hard thrust, he gasps.

“Don’t be difficult,” Kane chides, voice rough.

It’s heartening, in a way, when Seth retorts, “You’re the one being difficult!” But when he feels the beginnings of Kane’s knot starting to catch on his entrance, he caves instantly. He’s so close. 

“Please touch me, alpha, fuck!” Seth begs. Kane, too close to his own orgasm to care about prolonging the tease, wraps a large hand around Seth’s cock. It envelops it completely, surrounding it on all sides with friction, and Seth wails.

Moments later, his little cock is shooting clear ejaculate into his hand. Seth’s cunt spasms as he comes, making Kane groan. All it takes is one decisive thrust to shove his swelling knot inside, and then they are locked together.

Kane’s orgasm is immediate, making him growl and dig his fingers into Seth’s hips. He grinds into him and Seth answers by moaning and clenching around him. He’s stretched wide around Kane’s knot, and he swears he can almost feel the alpha pumping come into him. The high of endorphins leaves him panting.

Kane breathes hard, his head bowing to rest for a moment on Seth’s shoulder blade. Seth’s cunt is working his cock hard, squeezing him relentlessly for every drop of come. It’s pure ecstasy.

With a groan, Kane pulls Seth with him down onto their sides. Seth wriggles like a pleased dog, leaning back into him. Kane closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. It’s nice to knot an omega, even if said omega is a snotty brat and not the man he actually wants.

Seth is practically purring, basking in the endorphins that flood every omega when they’re knotted. He feels more satisfied than he has in months. Especially when Kane trails a lazy hand over his stomach. A haze of _ knotpupsyespups _ clouds his mind, just for a moment.

Kane’s instincts must stray a little too far into that direction himself, for he clears his throat quite loudly and places his hand resolutely on Seth’s arm. Seth starts at the noise, inadvertently tugging quite hard on Kane’s knot. They both wince.

“Watch it,” Kane gripes. Like turning up the temperature on a dial, Seth can feel the alpha’s rising irritation. He can almost swear it comes with an actual spike in temperature, too. No wonder people call Kane some sort of fire demon.

Not in the mood to start an argument, Seth just hisses a little. Kane seems to think this is enough, for Seth can feel his visceral annoyance simmer back down. 

“We don’t actually have to fuck a second time, do we?” Seth asks, thinking back on Triple H’s instructions.

“I can’t be bothered,” Kane replies. Seth relaxes.

“Good.”

“It’ll probably be close to half an hour ‘til we can get free, anyways,” Kane says. Seth appreciates his candor, though, to be honest, it comes as a bit of a surprise. As with most alphas, longer periods of abstinence cause longer ties to make up for lost time, and Kane has just indirectly admitted that it’s been more than a while.

“It’s been that long?” He asks, tone mild. After all, he’s hardly in any place to laugh at him for not seeing much action.

Kane’s reply is a noncommittal grunt, but Seth takes it as the affirmation it truly is.

What Seth says next just kind of slips out. “I wouldn’t have guessed.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seth flushes. Kane can see the tip of his ear turn pink.

“Nothing.” So what if a teenage Seth had lusted after various wrestlers and Kane had happened to be one of them? He had been quite jealous of Lita at the time, though after actually working with Kane he quickly lost the allure. Way too insufferable to fuck. 

Well. Moot point now.

Kane has pieced together enough of this narrative to huff out a laugh. It is most definitely at his expense— and just like that, they fall back into old patterns. Though it is tempered now, somewhat...easier. 

“Fuck off,” Seth grumbles, though not as sharply as he could have. Then, changing the subject, “I’m surprised you and Daniel Bryan aren’t still a thing.”

Kane stills, and Seth realizes too late that he’s hit a sore spot. But Kane only sighs.

“It’s not that easy,” he says. Seth gets the feeling Kane said it more to himself than him. He offers no elaboration on the subject after that; unbidden, the bites on Seth’s bonding gland start to prickle. 

_ Roman watching him like prey, remorseless. Dean’s eyes, cold and unfeeling. _

“Yeah,” Seth finally whispers. “It isn’t.”

x 

That night, Seth and Kane both pretend that they’re with someone else. In the morning, they don’t talk about it. Nor will they ever speak of that night again, if Seth has anything to say about it. It’s easier that way. 

The odd solace they found in each other will remain a one time thing, a small anomaly amidst a vast swath of isolation. 

Kane will tell himself he never liked the kid anyways, and keep on shuffling paperwork. 

Seth will strut around with his title, acting the part of the sellout brat until he can’t recognize himself in the mirror.

They will do what is best for business, as always. But somehow, it feels even lonelier now. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Edited the ‘epilogue’ slightly, changing it from certainty to what Seth and Kane want to happen. Candyassgoth, this is all your fault and I love you.]
> 
> As you can see, my weaknesses involve Kane being Soft and Seth being a whiny baby. 
> 
> Happy endings are implied to come years later with the Shield and Team Hell No reunions. These poor schmucks just have to get over their Authority phase first.


End file.
